Almost Home
by seattlecsigeek
Summary: Grissom and Sara are reunited after five months. This story contains sexually explicit situations. Please read responsibly.


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**Authors' Notes:** We do not own the rights to these characters, they belong to the big shots over at CBS and Alliance. We like to think that the characters like to come out to play with us.

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Grissom's POV 

Standing on the edge of the crime scene, Grissom rubbed his tired eyes. He hadn't needed to be called into work early when the body covered with bugs had been reported. Already at the lab, it took very little time to get to the scene and begin processing. It had taken hours to process, and he'd barely finished his analysis before shift start.

When he'd picked up the assignment slips, a busy night seemed in order. Grissom found himself once again rubbing his tired eyes as he watched Catherine and Greg crouch next to the body of a middle-aged man in the bedroom of the Winchester home. Making his way over to the victim's bed in the darkened, plain bedroom, he pulled out the ALS, placed the goggles over his eyes, and began marking stains.

They'd been there for a couple of hours before he checked his watch and sighed. Examining the dark oak nightstand, he lifted a glass half filled with water, and examined the men's wrist watch sunk at the bottom… and noted the time – midnight.

"Hey Catherine? What time do you have?" he asked, gazing at the warped image of the watch through the clear water.

"Three AM," she replied, about the same time as his cell phone began to buzz. Without taking his eyes off the glass, he turned his head toward Catherine and said, "It will be interesting to see if the TOD corresponds with the time on the watch," with a raised brow.

On the third buzz of the phone, he answered, "Grissom," and placed the glass back on the plain tan coaster. The entire room seemed plain tan.

"Hey, Gil," Sara said on the other end of the line.

"Hey," he breathed out, noting Catherine's look of curiosity. Searching around rapidly, he found the door to the connecting master bathroom and stepped through. "Hey, Sara," he said, smiling vaguely, noting Catherine's quick grin, and Greg's head whipping up to stare in the other room, before he closed the door.

"How busy are you tonight?" she quietly asked.

"A typical shift," he replied.

He wasn't sure how to make out her tone when she said, "The city, where crime never sleeps."

"Yeah," he breathed out.

He heard her quick intake of breath, and long release of air before she asked, "Do you think you'd be able to pick me up at the airport?"

"Airport?" he quietly whispered, "When does your flight get in?"

"About two hours ago," she responded.

Dazedly opening the bathroom door, he found Catherine looking at him quizzically. "Catherine, I need you to take over here."

As he made his way past her, he truly smiled for the first time in a lifetime when she yelled, "Hey! Where are you going?"

Looking back as he made his way forward, he responded, "To get Sara," before he realized she was still on the phone. Putting the cell back to his ear, he listened to her laughter; he asked, "Where precisely are you?" and listened carefully.

Grissom wasn't entirely sure how he got to the airport parking lot. For that matter, the walk to baggage claim was blurred by his eagerness to simply _see_ her again. It wasn't until he saw her sitting with her carry-on bags in the seating area that the need to _feel_ her came to the forefront. She may have had her back to him, but he knew those masses of curls anywhere, curving down over her shoulders.

She never saw him coming, but as she reached out to tie the masses of riotous curls into a ponytail, he reached out and grasped a hand. The jolt that ran through him had him sucking in a breath of air, as if he'd been punched, and he murmured, "Let me." It wasn't until he'd placed the band in her hair and rubbed his knuckles down her slender neck that she turned to face him, standing up in the process.

"Hello, Gilbert," she murmured, reaching out a hand to run it across his cheek, letting him feel and taste the thumb slowly slide across his lips. He tried to think of something to say to her, but nothing worth saying would come to mind, and he could only look, feel, smell, and taste her. His senses seemed to overwhelm thought, until she released him and bent to take her bags.

Coming back to himself, he grabbed the bags from her and smiled. The smile widened when she leaned in as whispered, "Take me home, baby."

The walk back to the car would have been a complete blur, but he remembered every breath he heard coming from her lips. After dropping the bags in the trunk of his Mercedes, he opened her door, and waited as she made to take her seat.

His breath caught when she slowly turned in the doorway leaned in, and captured his lips. He didn't realize how very desperate he'd become until he plucked the piece of elastic band from her hair, dropped it, wrapped his hands into her mane… and plundered. His tongue thrust and parried with hers, tasting what was essentially _her_ mixed with tequila, until he heard a moan and recognized it as his own.

He felt her hand move to loosen the shirt from his slacks. When she rubbed her palm across the skin of his lower back, he felt every vein between his legs begin to throb, and he grew hard. Leaning farther into her, he let his own hand drop to her neck, then down under her arm, sliding up the swell of her breast.

"God, Sara. I want you," he rasped, letting his hand fondle and massage her breast, until her nipple pebbled under his palm. "You taste so good." Once again, he delved his tongue in deep and hot, feeling her squirm and arch against him.

It wasn't until a guard passing by stopped in a security cart that they pulled away from one another. The man yelled out, "Get a room. You're in Vegas, after all," and then hummed off in his vehicle.

Both of them gasped for breath, and Grissom got a good look at her lips – swollen and tinged a deep pink. Forcing himself to retreat, he tried to ignore how tight his slacks suddenly felt against his straining erection, and realized how futile the exercise would be.

Closing her door after her, he made his way around to the other side, climbed in, and was starting the engine before she soberly stated a little breathlessly, "I want you too. Get home fast."

The drive north – toward home – should not have taken long. However, due to road construction, Grissom found himself stopped and waiting for a pilot car to pass them through. It was about this time, and a millionth glance over, that he watched in fascination as Sara undid a couple extra buttons at the top of her shirt.

When she looked at him, in the dim light of the headlights from the car behind them, he made out her dark, smoky eyes, and smiled. That expression flared to desire, as she reached across and slid her slender hand across his thigh, toward the juncture of his legs, and finally across the thickening cock straining for release. Tilting his head back, he felt himself slowly move against her rubbing hand, as she massaged him.

The honking of the car behind them brought him back to reality, and he groaned.

"This is going to take forever," she whimpered, as they barely moved forward, and away from construction – being redirected onto the strip. "I want you in me, baby. Gil, I need you in me."

Those are the words that caused him to hit the accelerator and head toward an area of the strip where back alleys were aplenty, and most of them private. He'd barely made it halfway there before he felt the zipper drop on his pants, and her hand making its way past his briefs to grasp the velvety, hot flesh. As he drove, with her hand stroking his cock, making him moan and squirm, he prayed – and then seriously contemplated stopping in the middle of the strip, yanking her across the console and plunging into her.

Reaching down, he stilled her hand and said, "Wait, honey," in a thick voice, his breathing heavy. Speeding up, he held his hand over hers, feeling her fingers lightly stroke the swollen head, and moaned as he flipped his right turn signal. Making his way rapidly down a dark alley and around the corner behind an antique shop, he pressed down on the breaks and rolled to a stop.

With a trembling hand, he dropped out of gear, pressed the parking break, and turned toward her. When she leaned in, he got a better glimpse of her thinly veiled breasts.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, turning his attention back to her eyes, then closing his when she squeezed his cock enough to make him pulse and thrust in her hand.

Jerking away, he suddenly shoved open the door, nearly _ran_ around the car to yanked open hers. Pulling her in his wake to the back of the car, he ran his hand down between the undone buttons, then lower as he flipped open the remaining ones. Spreading the soft green shirt aside, he leaned her backward over the trunk, eyeing the bra-clad feast in front of him, and silently thanked every manufacturer of front-clasp bras in the world.

With a quick flip of his fingers, he watched the woman in front of him arch her now-exposed breasts to the cool Las Vegas air. Her puckering nipples invited him to suck and lick, and he did so with abandon, letting his tongue twirl around the exposed peaks, reveling in the sounds coming from that long, slender throat.

Holding her back with one hand, he let the other slide down to the button of her trousers, and flicked it open. Letting his hand glide down further, he felt her shift, as he slide his palm down over her belly, letting his fingers fondle the wet heat he found between her parted legs.

It wasn't until she moaned, "I want to come with you in me," that he removed his fingers and stopped stroking her clit. Holding her close, he helped her stand. Grasping her hand, he kissed the palm, letting his tongue dart out for a taste, before leading her around to the front of the car.

"Lay back," he said, helping her onto the hood, and then reaching out to spread the shirt open. Crouching, he removed each shoe, rubbing the insole, making her moan in pleasure at the pressure. Sliding his hands up her thighs, and across her hips, he grasped the waistline, and began to slowly lower the trousers, taking the panties off as well.

When she finally lay out before him, only a splayed shirt on her, he lowered himself, and gently laid his mouth over her clit, softly sucking. When he felt her body release more moisture, he lowered his mouth and begun to lick at it, before finally plunging his tongue into her.

The cry he heard made the erection that had slightly abated swell thick and full, and he continued to tease her with his lips and tongue.

"Come in me," she emphatically moaned, squirming. Those three simple words released whatever control he had, and with unsteady hands he lowered his slacks and briefs to his knees. Placing his cock against her opening, he paused.

"Give me all of it," she breathed out loudly, and cried out when he grabbed her hips, and pulled her toward him to plunge deep into her. Sheathed in her, he wondered at the tightness – both loving how her walls fit so snugly against his swollen cock and hating that they hadn't been together in so long.

"Are you all right, honey?" he asked, seeing tears forming in her eyes.

"I need all of you," she whispered, and all words were gone, as he used his hands and hips to slow the pace. With each stroke into her, the expression of the act changed. No longer did he feel the base need to simply be in her. It was replaced with the need to fill her with everything he was.

Stroke after stroke, he fed her his length, his heat, and something so primal he couldn't name. Seconds turned to long, long minutes, as their breathing became more rapid, and their guttural sounds more demanding.

He watched as she reached down and found the spot he knew would drive her over the edge and began to rub and stroke, slowly at first, and increasing in tempo. The faster she stroked, the more demanding each thrust of his cock became, until her other arm reached out and gripped his hand firmly wrapped around her hip.

On the next deep plunge, he felt those already tight walls squeeze him. Several hard thrusts later, he felt the head of his cock swell, and cried out her name. Pumping repeatedly, he felt his cum shoot into her, and gained a uniquely male satisfaction in knowing that he'd just coated those still spasming walls.

Still embedded in her, and harder than he knew a man his age capable of being after an encounter this intense, he hunched slightly over her. With his thumbs he rubbed her hip bones. Catching her eyes in the barely lit alley, he whispered, "Welcome home, dear."

He watched as she grinned, glanced down at her body, and said, "It's good to be home."

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Sara's POV 

Sara swirled the last of her tequila around with the few slivers of ice that were remaining in the plastic airline cup. Her flight from San Francisco had boarded forty-five minutes late, adding to the stress she was already feeling. She'd decided a shot of Dutch courage was called for, or in this case Mexican courage.

She was returning to Las Vegas unannounced after five months away. Even though Gil had told her on the phone, from the very first call, that he wanted her back, Sara was still feeling uncertain. Her nervousness was making her feel nauseous, and she wasn't a great flyer to begin with. Relief flooded through her when the flight attendants started to prepare the cabin for arrival.

The 737 landed smoothly and taxied towards the D gates at the east side of the airport. Sara was sitting in the front of the coach cabin and stood as soon as the jet stopped at the gate. She couldn't wait to get off the plane and was starting to feel a little claustrophobic. Grabbing her carry-on bag she made her way towards the exit, breathing in a deep lungful of the dry desert air. She knew she should feel like she was coming home, but the doubt in her heart was still making her chest ache.

Boarding the tram to the main terminal, Sara flipped open her cell phone and turned it back on. Looking at the screen, she debated with herself about calling Gil. When the tram reached the terminal and the doors slid open she closed the phone.

Sara followed her fellow passengers towards the escalators, but instead of going down to baggage claim, she detoured around towards the Mexican restaurant she knew was on the upper level of the main concourse.

Taking a seat at a small table in the corner, near a window, Sara ordered a Patron on the rocks. She flipped open her cell phone and looked at it until her drink arrived, then closed it. She wondered briefly how far away the nearest smoking lounge was. No, she was back in Vegas, she'd have to quit again.

Taking a sip of tequila, Sara closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cool glass of the window. She wished she knew how Gil would react to her coming home. She wished she could get up the nerve to call him. She wished she'd never left.

Maybe she should just catch a cab home. Taking another sip of her drink, Sara glanced at her watch. She'd been on the ground for an hour and still hadn't made it out of the terminal. She pulled a ten out of her wallet and slid it under the half empty glass. Standing, she picked up her carry-on and headed towards the escalators, going down towards the ranks of waiting taxis.

When Sara stepped out onto the sidewalk she stopped and rubbed a hand over her face. She shook her head and sighed. This wasn't the way she wanted to come home - slinking in through the back door with her tail between her legs.

Pulling herself up to her full five feet ten inches, she flipped open her phone and hit the speed dial for Gil's cell. She started to pace as the phone rang…once…twice…a third time. Finally, relief hit her when she heard his gruff answer of "Grissom".

"Hey, Gil" she said, meekly.

"Hey…Hey, Sara." Gil replied. She could hear his breathing on the other end, slow and even.

Steeling herself against her nerves she asked, "How busy are you tonight?"

"A typical shift."

"The city, where crime never sleeps." Sara winced as the words left her mouth, realizing how bitter they must sound.

"Yeah." He said quietly. She thought he sounded dejected.

Sara straightened her shoulders and asked, "Do you think you'd be able to pick me up at the airport?"

"Airport?" Sara could barely hear him over the noise of the taxis, "When does your flight get in?"

"About two hours ago." She said, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

Sara could hear him talking to Catherine on the other end of the phone before he asked "Where precisely are you?"

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Sara smiled and walked back into the terminal. He was going to meet her at baggage claim, and he sounded happy about it.

Walking back into the terminal, Sara was surprised to find herself pulling a half full pack of cigarettes from her bag. Crumpling them with a smile, she tossed them in a trash can. The last five months were over. It was time for a fresh start.

Finding a seat, Sara set her bags down and checked her watch. Traffic would be light at this hour, but she realized she'd forgotten to ask Gil where he was coming from. She was starting to feel nervous again, this time from anticipation. She raked her fingers through her hair and felt how wild it had become in the dry Las Vegas air. Reaching into her bag for an elastic band, Sara gathered the curls to confine them. She felt a thrill of electricity when Gil grabbed her hand, whispering, "Let me."

He slipped the band onto her ponytail and trailed his fingers along the sensitive skin on the back of her neck. Sara felt electricity shoot to her core. She stood and turned to face him. His eyes were even bluer than she remembered, and he'd grown back his beard.

"Hello, Gilbert," she sighed, reaching out to feel the prickle of his beard against her palm. She ran a thumb along his lips. The electricity intensified when she felt his tongue against the pad of her thumb. How could she have left him, even for a day? Swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat, Sara bent to pick up her bag.

Gil seemed to snap out of a trance and grabbed her bags, grinning boyishly. She leaned into him until she could smell his special scent; soap, 'unscented' deodorant, and shampoo, overlaid with a hint of sweat from working. To her it was an aphrodisiac, and she whispered, with a hint of urgency, "Take me home, baby."

Sara could feel the need to touch him build as he led her to the car. She watched the muscles play under the skin of his forearms as he threw her bags into the trunk and opened the passenger door.

Instead of sitting, she stepped closer and kissed him deeply. Sara needed to feel the warmth of his skin and tugged his shirt loose to slip a hand underneath. She felt his hands, seemingly everywhere at once, her hair, her throat, her breast.

A groan escaped her when he tore his mouth away to murmur, "God, Sara. I want you…you taste so good."

She rubbed herself against him as he returned to her mouth, greedy for his touch - aching with need. Gil finally pulled away when a security guard slowed his cart and shouted, "Get a room. You're in Vegas, after all," before whirring away.

Trembling, Sara collapsed into the car.

Coming back to herself when she heard the car start, Sara turned to Gil a said, "I want you too. Get home fast."

At three-thirty in the morning the traffic shouldn't have been a consideration, but the never-ending Las Vegas construction had them trapped in a traffic jam. Sara reached down to undo the top few buttons of her shirt, before reaching across to caress Gil's thigh. She hadn't realized just how much she had missed the physical presence of him.

Watching his eyes glaze and his jaw twitch, she slowly ran her palm up his leg until she was rubbing his erection. She felt him thrust to meet her, and closed her eyes as she sank into the moment; feeling the solid, throbbing heat against her hand.

The honking of the car behind them brought home the agonizing truth of their current situation. Frustration tinged her voice as she croaked, "This is going to take forever." Leaning closer, Sara whispered, "I want you in me, baby. Gil, I _need _you in me."

Sara was shocked when Gil stabbed the accelerator, and swerved around the car in front of them, darting down a dark alley. Grinning, she reached for his zipper, pulling it down and slipping a hand inside to grasp his hardness. She slowly stroked him a few times before she felt his hand covering hers, stilling it.

"Wait, honey," he said, turning a corner and rolling to an abrupt stop. He turned and she could barely hear him whisper, "You're beautiful."

Before Sara realized what was happening, Gil was out of the car, and around to her side; opening her door and pulling her towards the trunk. Pushing her back against the cool metal, he unfastened the remaining buttons on her shirt and ran his warm hands over her skin. Flicking open her bra, he bent down to suck a nipple into his mouth. Sara groaned as she flung back her head; it had been much too long since she'd felt this raw desire.

She could feel Gil unbutton her slacks and slip his hand inside, his probing fingers making her shudder. "I want to come with you in me," slipped unbidden from her lips. He took her hand, kissed the palm and pulled her up from the trunk of the car.

Leading her to the hood, he ordered, "Lay back," and grasped her hips to help her up. Crouching, he removed her shoes, rubbing her feet seductively as he did. Sliding his hands slowly up her legs, Gil reached the waist of her slacks and pulled them down over her hips and thighs, pulling her panties off with them.

When she was naked, except for her open shirt, Gil knelt before her and lowered his mouth to the juncture of her thighs. His soft mouth enveloped her, first sucking gently at her clit, and then probing between her damp folds; finally his tongue thrusting insistently into her.

Sara could feel the tension starting to coil up inside her and groaned "Come in me."

Gil stood and lowered his slacks, as Sara watched with hungry eyes. She needed to feel him inside her body, as well as inside her soul. He paused and looked at her, with his throbbing cock poised at the entrance to her center.

"Give me all of it," she pleaded, needing to feel complete again, whole. Sara could feel the tears building in her eyes as he thrust into her.

"Are you all right, honey?" he asked, stopping.

"I need all of you," Sara whispered, knowing that she meant more than just the animal desire that filled her.

The tension began to mount in her body, and she reached down, touching herself to release it. Her stroking increased in tempo, matching Gil's deep thrusts. Feeling his hand tightly clenching her hip, Sara reached down to clutch it as she tumbled over the edge, explosions of sensation overcoming her.

She could feel Gil tense as he climaxed, just a moment after her, an animal groan escaping his lips. After her breathing calmed, Sara caught his eyes with her own, and smiled.

"Welcome home, dear," he said with that crooked grin she had missed so much.

"It's good to be home," Sara replied, and she meant it.

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